It’s a curiosity that both Michelangelo and Francesco Da
Milano were nicknamed ‘il divino’. With the former, we can see
his massive and revolutionary works, the Sistine chapel, the sculptures and
some other great paintings. He is known the world over and considered one of
the greatest artists of all time. Milano whose full name was Canova da
Milano is really a shadowy figure who only wrote for the lute and whose art
is now forgotten except by a few musicians. How has this happened?

Milano, born in Spain, was a great improviser. The detailed booklet
notes by Peter Croton himself, quotes an account of the composer at a
banquet at first beginning “to seek out a fantasia” whilst
everyone falls silent. Then he transports the listeners so that they become
“deprived of all senses” and in a “divine frenzy”.
This, by our expectations, is subtle music, a slight fall or rise of melody
or an unexpected harmony and an especially memorable phrase or dynamic
change. All of these were enough to capture the attention of a large
gathering. In our own times when musical expression tends to be on a
grander, louder, lengthier scale than a three-minute fantasia we have lost
the art of careful listening in which small details of expression can mean
such a lot. In addition it is quite probable that the best improvisations
were never recaptured on manuscript. So we will never know if the lutenist
really warranted his sobriquet.

Francesco’s music has been recorded by others over the years.
I reviewed a disc played by Hopkinson Smith (Naïve E8921) in 2008 but
to my knowledge this is the first time Milano and Francesco Spinacino have
been linked on one CD. His music is quite different and we are given a set
of ten Ricercar here.

Spinacino could almost be described as the Gesualdo of the lute and
his music has been pronounced as ‘chaotic’. The opening track
sets the tone. Number 30 begins with something like six bars of a
triple-time dance before suddenly planting an unrelated chord into the mix
then bouncing back to where it started. There are some other modulations and
although only 3.40 secs in length, another mood, a more reflective one is
begun after just two minutes. There are several sequential passages. The
opening music is never fully re-established but ideas are developed and then
set aside. The reason for all this is that Spinacino was an improviser and
is really attempting to capture those free-wheeling ideas, which so
“excited the ears of his first audiences”. No. 31 is even more
curious. It starts off as if it is warming up and “seeking out an
idea”. Then there is a passage which goes into a strangely unrelated
key and winds back on itself. The whole piece has no definite focus; this
sort of thing happens in other pieces and it’s quite difficult to get
a handle on the style. I agree with Croton that no “established method
of analysing the music to guide interpretative decisions may necessarily do
the music justice”. Even so, it’s quite intriguing that Petrucci
chose Spinacino’s music to head his famous collection
‘Intablatura de Lauto’ published in Venice in 1507 whence these
pieces come.

Francesco da Milano is much more of a classicist one might say and
Croton’s selection of pieces here offer us an opportunity to compare
the Ricercar form with that of the Fantasia. As a general rule, although I
would not to be pinned down to this, the Fantasia tends to begin with what
we now think of as a fugal or imitative idea. This is passed between the
voices of the instrument. Think of it, almost as canonic. Typical is the
Fantasia No. 32, which is clubbed together with numbers 31 and 61 on the
same track. The opening tune is kept constantly in the mind either as a
melody or as a rhythm. In the Ricercar, surprisingly you might think, the
form is more relaxed and can be quite dance-like as in number 91.These
pieces may also be shorter and can also seem to penetrate a deeper emotional
landscape as in number 84 although they are still basically contrapuntal
with just a little chordal work.

Milano also composed variations on popular songs and Pavans but
these Ricercar and Fantasias do allow the listener to get to know his
language well.

Peter Croton plays an elegant and warm sounding six-course lute made
in 1992 by Michael Lowe. Lowe contributes a fascinating essay about the
history of the instrument and his approach in constructing the one used
here.

Croton complains in his booklet notes that he was extremely cold
when making this recording in the Swiss Church (pictured within). You would
never expect it from his clear and deft finger-work. I know from organ
playing in cold churches how painful it can be. The microphone is closely
placed and there is little sense of the acoustic of the building. Perhaps
because of the cold Croton did not record as much music as he had possibly
intended because at less than fifty minutes the playing time is distinctly
stingy. The music is however delightful and fascinating. The combination of
these two composers offers a chance for us to realise that renaissance
styles could be as varied and as poles apart as any in the romantic or
modern era once we listen with different ears and a gentler spirit.